


Sweet Dreams

by Charlie9646



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Consensual Somnophilia, Cunnilingus, Disability, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Multi, Severus Snape Lives, Somnophilia, Triad - Freeform, Vibrator, Voyeurism, minor D/s relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26668558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646
Summary: They had been talking about this for months, mulling the idea over between them, and tonight was the night.The very idea sent a thrill through Pansy.Hermione kissed Severus’ cheek. They had made a life together and this was just on piece of it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape/Pansy Parkinson, Pansy Parkinson/Severus Snape, Severus Snape/Hermione Granger
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43
Collections: 2020Kinktober





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> My assigned kink was Somnophilia
> 
> Thank you to my Beta Emeraldgreenlove and LilithShade who answered my questions about this kink.

The light from the setting sun streamed through the curtains. Pansy watched Severus and Hermione putter around the kitchen. Neither of her lovers spoke, but the silence was not overwhelming. If anything, it was as comfortable as simply curling up under a warm blanket and reading a book. 

Hermione chopped the vegetables, Severus checked the roast in the oven, and Pansy sat at the breakfast table. Her foot up on another chair trying to desperately do what she had been told. It was harder than it sounded, to put it bluntly. For as long as she could remember, she had been someone of action - not someone who sat by and watched. On the other hand she was happy that the two people she loved had come to an understanding of sorts, a comfortable position with the other. 

On the other hand, Pansy wished that they could figure out a way to do what they had talked about comfortably - for everyone. It wasn’t that Hermione didn’t want Severus. Pansy could easily see that the other woman rose on her toes and kissed the man’s cheek, brushing his soft hair aside as she did so. 

The three of them enjoyed the idea of what hopefully would one day happen though Hermione had her own stipulations, her own requirements. That was understandable. It was right. Pansy couldn’t be the “sleeping beauty” of sorts in the bed, being teased and made proper love to. No matter how careful they were, it wouldn’t be safe with her joints. Pansy wouldn’t be able to right herself or say “that hurts” and that just wasn’t an option. 

When they were out together, people would always say how wonderful it was for them to let their friend live with them, that it was nice for Pansy to have a live-in caretaker to help Severus. But, it was the exact opposite. Neither of them were her caretakers. Pansy was her own fucking caretaker. She took care of them just as much as they took care of her though in very different ways. 

Hermione wasn’t the extra sock in her dresser that she couldn’t bear to part with. She was a part of their marriage, even if she had come into it a few years after it had begun. The thought brought a lovely feeling in the pit of her stomach, like the first sips of good wine. They were something that made sense to the three of them and the rest of the world didn’t need to bloody know it to make it real. 

Even with all of that, it didn’t mean Pansy didn’t want to pull herself up to stand on her far too loose throbbing ankle and chop that darn onion properly. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and just watched them. Hermione was a rather horrible cook, and Severus wasn’t comfortable with change, even when it came to food. 

_ You can’t step in and fix everything, _ Pansy reminded herself silently, and it's not like they even looked that bad. The pieces were just slightly too big. Anyway, Severus hadn’t said anything, and he was the bloody potion’s master.

Hermione dumped the vegetables into the saucepan on the stove. 

“I think I want to do it tonight,” she said softly as she turned to face Pansy. The woman’s tan skin nearly glowed, her curls cropped shorter, framing her face, and her brown eyes filled with something that might be lust.

At least Pansy hoped it was though it could just as easily be fear or worry. However, she wished it wasn’t. This wasn’t something to be afraid of. However, she had no right to make that judgment; it was not Pansy who was letting one or more of her lovers touch her as she was asleep. And Pansy didn’t want to admit it wasn’t just her clicking joints that held her back. It was the idea of giving up control to someone; even with someone who she trusted, it would be hard. 

Severus and she had done something comparable to this. He had slipped into a potion filled daze where everything was warm, safe and pleasure-filled. Pansy regularly was woken up with one or both of her lovers teasing her. He was kissing her neck, fingers inside of her, thumb on her clit, bringing to her mind numbing pleasure. 

But, both of those were rather different than this. Hermione was going to be totally asleep. She would be able to wake up, and if anything, that was the goal. Though the woman was a heavy sleeper, which was part of it that gave it an appeal, for all of them. 

“Earth to Pansy?” Severus muttered, as he waved his pale hand back and forth in her face. “Did we lose you or something within your thoughts?”

“Sorry,” Pansy said, as she drummed her fingers over the wooden table. “I was just thinking about… well, everything.”

Hermione sat down in the chair across from Pansy, her sweater slipping ever so slightly off her narrow shoulder. She wanted to kiss that skin and work her way up the woman’s neck. 

_ Bloody hell, _ Pansy thought,  _ there was time for that and now was not it. They need to talk this through. _

Severus walked over to the other side of the table sitting harshly down in the chair. The sound of it scraping across the wood floor filling Pansy’s ears. She fought the urge to cover them at the sound, the scrapping of the wood like nails on a chalkboard. 

“There is a lot to think about,” Hermione said. “I know I am, but I want to do this, love. I trust you both. And that both of you will respect what I asked?”

“Yes, I understand,” Severus drawled, the comment slightly tongue in cheek. “I can look, but I can’t touch.”

Pansy didn’t think there was any malice in the man’s reaction, it was just who he was. Severus Snape had a sharpness to him. A wickedness to his tongue, it was the way he saw the world, and other people in it. It just was who he was. The same way his black ink hair fell into his eyes and the Dark Mark that marred his skin. Some of which he was born with and others which had come with the years of his life. 

“Thank you, Sev,” the other woman said as she went to sit on his lap. Turning up his chin, Hermione added, “It’s not that I don’t want you or love you…”

“It’s just something that might come later if this goes well,” he mused. Taking her hand and kissing it. “Granger, this is about _you_. Not me or even Pansy. It takes a lot of trust for this to happen and you are allowed to put on any stipulations if you so _desire_ _to_. This isn’t like the time you two tied me up. There is no easy way to say red and we know to stop.”

Pansy watched them transfixed by the two of them, the gentleness of the conversation, the sweetness of talking about consent and desire on the same breath. It was odd to watch this, to be a part of it but also not be in it’s own strange way. The three of them sitting at the breakfast table talking about how they were going to spend their night. If a person didn’t know any better it could have been about coffee or what they were going to have for dinner. 

Speaking of dinner…

Hermione nodded saying, “Exactly.” 

“Lovebirds,” Pansy snapped. “Did you both bloody forget about something?”

“What?” Severus bristled, without a lot of spite. He shifted back softly in his chair. 

Hermione muttered something under her breath, twisting her fingers into her short curls. Neither of them paid attention to the smoking onions and potatoes on the stove. 

“Dinner,” Pansy said, as she waved her arm in that direction. Pansy hissed sharply as she stood. Trying not to put her full weight on her left ankle, Pansy limped over to the counter, gripping it to steady herself before turning off the burner. “It’s burning and I don’t want to listen to you two bitch about me walking on my damn ankle.”

Smoke billowed off the pan. Severus opened the window and the sliding glass door to their back garden. Hermione turned on the ceiling fan, her hair sticking up more than usual **,** it clung to her sweaty forehead.

“Bloody hell,” Hermione hissed, crossing the room back to the table. “I swear I thought I put a charm on it.”

Severus pulled out the roast and set in on the counter his long hair slipping out of the leather hair tie that held it back. “Granger, you never remember the freaking charm. Use a bloody Muggle timer next time **,** you seem to be capable of remembering to set them and notice them easier.”

“Like you are any better,” she snapped, her hands on her hips. Eyes narrowing eyes at him, she stuck her tongue out at him. “Didn’t you make mush instead of pasta last week?”

“Possibly,” he muttered, sighing and a small smile appeared on his lips.

Pansy tucked a piece of hair behind her shoulders. It was getting too long, too heavy even. Putting pressure on her neck and at the base of her skull. The pain was a dull ache, a bit sting- like. It wasn’t easy to exactly put her finger on it, it was like a thrumming at the back of her mind. There **,** but easily forgotten for the most part. Part of her missed her long hair, but it was easier this way. Less headaches and migraines were worth short cropped hair, even if she missed what it used to be like

Pansy hopped up onto the counter **,** trying to take her weight off of her ankle. The joint was starting to give way again.

“I am not actually hungry,” Hermione said. “Are either of you?” 

“Nope,” Pansy said. 

“I will put the meat in the fridge,” Severus said. “And I am going to go out for a cigarette.”

“Me too,” she said, climbing off the counter. 

“Use your cane!” Hermione said just slightly too loudly, as she handed Pansy her cane. 

Hermione Jean Granger couldn’t shut off the caring part of her mind, even if she was not Pansy’s caretaker, but she loved it. Pansy loved the silly woman who tended to be a bit of a bloody know-it-all, pushy, the bulldozer and so much more. But just like Severus, Hermione was hers and nothing would ever change that. Beyond either of them deciding it was no longer the case. 

“You know I love you, don’t you?” Pansy asked her, not expecting an answer, reaching out for Hermione, pulling her close. 

“I know that and I do too, both of you. I haven’t really felt this way about anyone else. Not ever,” she said, as she rested her head on top of Pansy’s. Hermione, like Severus, was tall, but her frame wasn’t as lean as his. Softer, so different, but just as lovely, maybe even more so. “But that doesn’t mean I agree with either of you smoking.”

You could take the healer from the clinic, but not the healer out of the woman. Hermione leaned down kissing Pansy, her tongue invading her mouth. Hands on her hips pulled her closer, but then just as quickly **,** they pulled away from each other to catch their breath. 

“How did I get so lucky?” Pansy asked. “How did…”

“This happen?” Hermione added and gave Pansy a slight shove. “I wonder all the time myself, now go and join him. I know it’s your way of saying that you need to talk by yourselves. And if tonight is to happen **,** you two need to talk. So go on.”

Pansy did as she was told, following her husband outside to the back garden. Severus sat on the bench on their porch, his feet on the railing. His eyes shut and lips wrapped around his cigarette. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Severus asked, twitching ever so slightly as if his mind was somewhere else. “I mean… It is a huge step.”

“The bravest man I ever knew, Potter goes on about, but, sometimes I wonder if it’s even true,” Pansy laughed, reaching for a cigarette and lighting it. “Or he’s lying to make himself feel better.”

“Says the woman who said “grab him,” he muttered. “It takes one to know one. But, should we be talking about the fucking past as if it really means anything in the here and now? Because it doesn’t. So, do you want to do this or not? Do you want to fuck her while she sleeps or not? I don’t think this time to mince my words or play bloody mental games, Pansy.” 

Ashing out her cigarette and stomping on it with her heel. “You ruin all the fun, Sev,” she muttered, though her face softened soon after. “Yeah I want to do this and what matters more **,** Hermione does.” 

Her husband turned to her raising one jet black eyebrow, his face calm, but eyes betraying his worry. “Then shall we?”

“We shall,” she said softly as she reached out for him and pulled him close and kissed his cheek.

They were bonded together like the pieces of a quilt. Stitched together **,** you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. They weren’t caretakers and a disabled person - they were a family - an odd one, but a family all the same. 

  
  


***************************************

Pansy watched Hermione sitting on the bed, her hair wet from her bath and combed out. She was beautiful in a way that couldn’t even be put into words. Hermione twisted the potion bottle in her fingers, the liquid shifted about as she did so. 

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” Severus murmured, from where he sat in his armchair by the window, leather-bound book clutched softly between his long pale fingers, reading glasses resting on his nose. He looked homely, like he belonged here just as much as the tree outside of the window. “You could just go to sleep and if you wake up, you wake up.”

Taking off her dressing gown **,** she snapped softly, “Yeah and while I am a bloody heavy sleeper **,** I struggle to get to sleep.”

“Pot meet kettle, Granger,” he growled. “I haven’t slept through the night in over twenty fucking years.”

“Must you two snip at each other like an old married couple?” Pansy asked them. 

“Yes!” they said together and both began to laugh, the sound settling the three of them.

“Fuck it,” Hermione muttered, twisting off the top and drinking it down. “Merlin, does it have to taste that gross?”

“Yes,” Severus deadpanned, “if it didn’t **,** someone might overdose on it. Or someone who shouldn’t **,** might drink it.”

“But this is for our personal use?” the two women asked together, clearly not understanding exactly what he meant. 

“And that’s exactly the reason,” he said, raising a single eyebrow as he did so. Severus marked his page and set his book aside **,** on his bedside table **,** reading glasses following suit on top of it. He climbed into bed and wrapped the covers tightly around himself, silently damping the candles with a wandless _nox_. “If you want me to explain why **,** I can, but I don’t want to lecture anymore than either of you want to hear it.”

Hermione was already starting to get a rather sleepy expression on her face . A calmness that she tended to lack when fully awake. She stood and hung her dressing gown on a hook near the door, then silently curled up under the blankets into Severus’ side. For once it seemed, sleep came easy to her. A clock on Pansy’s nightstand ticked softly **,** each second seeming longer than the last. Nervousness sending shivers down her spine. 

_ It wasn’t hard and it would be bloody fun,  _ she thought,  _ it was just a matter of doing it.  _

“Are you going to spend the whole night thinking about it?” he sighed, softly, eyes shut and hair hiding most of his face. 

“Hush, would you?” Pansy said, as she brushed Hermione’s hair out of her face. It was soft under her fingers. She climbed onto the bed kneeling on it between Severus and the other woman. Pansy kissed Hermione’s neck, trying to get up the courage to go further. It wasn’t that much different than when Hermione was awake, now was it?

_ Actually,  _ she thought,  _ it kind of is.  _

Pansy reached in her bedside table pulling out her vibrator. Turning it on she tested it on her own hand to find the right setting. Severus watched her, his breath coming out in soft puffs **,** black eyes boring into her own in the moonlight. He reached out gently for Pansy.

“No you don’t,” Pansy muttered, shoving his hand away softly. “No touching means no touching, love, me or her.”

The man groaned softly but did as he was told. 

Pansy pulled the blankets down off of Hermione and she ran a hand down the woman’s body. A quiet sigh escaped the brunette’s lips. Just as expected, she didn’t wake up. Pansy placed the vibrator on Hermione’s neck slowly working it down her body with gentle motions. Each stroke working its way down further and further as she did so. 

It was this unexpected thrill at the feeling of being in control that Pansy lacked in pretty much everything bloody else. Her own feelings were like a fly on the wall present, but not important in the end. Severus on the other hand she needed to keep an eye on however. 

She placed the vibratior on Hermione’s clit, pressing her thumb softly into it and making small circles upon it. 

Pansy kissed Hermione’s forehead then worked her way down her body kissing, licking and sucking on the places that she knew would normally make the woman scream. Hermione twitched slightly and groaned. Pansy nestled herself between her thighs, kissing and sucking on the woman’s thighs and then her cunt, slipping a finger inside of Hermione. 

The woman slept on though she curled into Severus. Pansy watched the two of them, her husband and her lover. 

“Don’t touch,” Pansy growled.

Instead of answering **,** the man simply snarled, his hand moving under the blanket **,** clearly taking care of himself. He drew himself closer to the edge, but tried to hold himself back. Severus was a bloody git, but he was her git. 

Hermione was close. Every single sign was there, including the way her body shook and twitched. Pansy went back to work between the woman’s legs. It felt strange to do this to the sleeping woman, but it sent a shock of thrill through her. 

Pansy spent most of her life handing control to others. Her parents with their pureblooded stupidity, her fellow Slytherins during the war, and even Severus to a point. Though the man had no desire for such a task **,** he was far more comfortable handing over control to her. And then the moment that she had decided to live her life as she would choose? Her control came crashing right down, slipping from her fingers like a wine glass. Pain and instability **,** the damning wretches that they were, but, this was taking just a tiny bit of control back. 

And she would always be grateful that Hermione had given her this. 

Pansy desired so desperately to take the reins, while Hermione so desperately wanted to hand them to someone else. Her lovely **,** gentle, kind, smart, and brave Hermione. It was a gift that came in no box, but a gift all the same. Sucking hard on her lover’s pussy **,** Hermione came, twisting around her, moaning and groaning. Then she crashed back down **,** going rigid and instantly **,** her warm brown eyes stared up at her. 

Severus came with a strangled cry, though the noise was distant. This wasn’t about him, it was about her and the woman underneath her. 

Hermione dragged Pansy up and they crashed together kissing. They tried to touch every single part of the other. They pulled apart to catch their breath, their foreheads resting against one another. Severus reached out **,** his cold fingers on Pansy’s back. He pulled her close and kissed Pansy. 

This was love. This was what life was supposed to be like for the three of them together. Hermione joined them in this sort of warm and hazy pile of cuddling. Pansy dozed off feeling nothing but love for these two people. Sometimes you had to take your own happiness back even if the only part of it you could get was a tiny bit of it. 


End file.
